


They had Tried

by TakingFlight48



Series: Moments of Written Musings [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 31 Days Writing Challenge, A little angsty but mostly sweet and fluffy, Attachment post war, Don't get too far, F/M, Falling off a bed, Harmony because it makes sense, Harmony fluff, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Light Smut, No Weasley Bashing, PTSD, What Could Have Been, because Harry's a clutz when he's trying to get it on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:02:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27236194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TakingFlight48/pseuds/TakingFlight48
Summary: How do you heal, move on, and go back to how things were when nothing will ever be the same again? How do you adhere to the way things should have been when all you can think of is the man you risked everything for during your formative years?  The short answer is - you move on with them.  Or the short clip of what could have been Post-Hogwarts battle between Hermione and her best friend, Harry Potter.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Series: Moments of Written Musings [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946668
Comments: 9
Kudos: 82
Collections: 31 Days of Writing Challenge - Fall 2020





	They had Tried

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the October 4th Prompt Challenge given to me by GracieFacie2017: Falling out of bed. 
> 
> The prompt needed to be clearly reflected in the story and although this sort of got away from me, it was fun to write! 
> 
> Also praise for my alpha extraordinaire, [Kiwi05622](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwi05622/works) for her help with this little nugget even though shes a forever Dramione stan. 
> 
> Enjoy ☮ ✌

Shortly after the war had ended, they had tried. Tried to move forward with the sense of relief that they knew was brimming just under their trauma. Tried to shake off the melancholy as they would dash through public places as quickly as possible, unwilling to be their poster children post-war. 

Most of all they had tried to stop this unexplainable, or rather very explainable, need to be as close to the other as possible. The duo had wanted to shake it off, reminding themselves of the ever-present sibling-like excuse. But it was more profound than that now, or perhaps had always been. 

When she had experienced a debilitating panic attack as she was escorted through the Ministry, not having seen Harry for more than three hours, they knew something had to shift. That was the day they had gotten chunky mobile phones from a store near the entrance to Diagon and Hermione spent five days obsessing over the science and rewiring it to work off and around magic. 

Then they had tried to shake off the need to hold each other close when the Weasleys started to grow ‘concerned’ about their sudden closeness. It was the confused look on Ginny’s face as she watched Harry grab Hermione’s arm or the dark cloud that would pass over Ron’s face when Hermione naturally sought Harry’s warmth that encouraged them to find even more physical distance. 

But it hadn’t changed these emotions that seemed to be deeper than attachment post-trauma. So as Hermione flew through the Burrow to collect the few items that dwelled outside her beaded bag, she pondered where the love she thought she had had for Ron had shifted. The rattled witch had thought she could pass through; the last thing she wanted was for Molly to believe she had left because of anything genuinely terrible. Hermione was shocked then that the last thing she saw before she apparated through the Weasley’s still weakened wards, was Harry. He was bent over, panting and calling out her name from the entrance of her shared room with Ginny - the same Harry who should have been with Ginny. 

The moment she reappeared through the slice of space and time, she prostrated herself, head bent low and hands gripping the soil below her fiercely. She was not ready, not yet willing to face the childhood home she had not seen since before everything, since before she orphaned herself. Her shaking began slowly as she finally looked around the garden and backyard, squeezing her eyes tight, limbs visibly rattling now she forced her eyes open and took in her large home, painted in colours of cream and pale blue, as intact as when she had left it. Sobs began to tear through her and a sliver of relief settled low in her gut as a second crack followed; the essence of teak and broom polish enveloped her. His hands were firm, warm, welcome around her shoulders as Harry collapsed onto the grass with her. “I know,” he mumbled, “I know, I’m here, I know.” 

So they had tried, really they had, but it had proven to be worse than not trying. 

Later as they lay on her father’s favourite recliner together, Harry idly tracing the lines of Hermione’s palm, he recounted his time with Ginny. “I mean I know I am daft, but she just sort of expected me to jump into an engagement, marriage following shortly after.” Harry paused in his ministrations before continuing, “She said we know we love each other, and well I asked her how she knew. She listed my obsession of her whereabouts on the map, the sheer relief we had demonstrated at seeing each other again, and staying in her family home for so long.”

Hermione hummed, as she took over the tracing, placing Harry’s hand face-up over her lap and readjusting her hips over his thighs. “Well, she’s not wrong necessarily, right? We both felt relief seeing them when we did and well, why did you leave?” 

“She tried to sit like you are and having her so close, I shook so hard she fell to the floor, and my instinct wasn’t to apologise and help her up - it was to apologise and call you. She sort of knew what would happen after that. She told me Ron would be attempting to talk to you about the same, and I came running as quickly as I could.”

“Yes, I saw you as I left. Ron brought up the kiss, our future, and Harry I just,” a frustrated breath left her as she searched Harry’s face with furrowed brows. “A life without you as my priority, my focus, the first man by my side.” She dropped his gaze, feeling tears well up and fall as warm tracks down her still sallow cheeks. “I just left him there, came back to the Burrow, and left with all my things.”

When Ron had taken Hermione into the town by his parents home to discuss the kiss, their future, and his desires she had felt so incredibly shaken by the potential of life without Harry as her first priority that she had apparated away without a word. 

  
  
  


A few nights later, as Hermione rested her head on Harry’s lap as he flicked through the channels that still worked on her telly, she suggested they look into therapy. After connecting with a fantastic muggle-born therapist that had moved to North America when the war was starting back up, they spent the summer floo her and working through their trauma. She had suggested learning to breathe away from the other, trusting that they could take care of themselves. She helped them see that closeness was okay until it was a crutch, a raison d’etre, a force that didn’t let them live unless they were near the other. 

After a long day at Hogwarts working in separate areas of rebuilding for the past five weeks, they collapsed in her family room - their family room. “Pizza tonight?” Hermione whispered, too tired to even raise her voice. With a kiss to her forehead, Harry groaned back onto his feet, and she smiled as he grabbed her mother's car keys to pick up her favourite a few blocks away. 

As she set the table, Hermione considered how thankful she was for the help the therapist had given them. With practice and finding work away from the other, the two young adults were slowly identifying who they were independent of each other. In turn, they felt less crushing agony when not together. Now, when Hermione and Harry were together, they were able to enjoy their time because they were learning to love each other not because living without the other seemed an impossibility. 

And then their friendship shifted consciously. It started with a hug that lasted just a second longer than usual. Falling asleep against the other and waking up with Harry’s firm body behind her own, his hand unconsciously stroking her abdomen and his scent enveloping her like a balm to her still healing psyche. 

Slowly, she would leave longer goodnight kisses against his cheek, hands slowly trailing up his tight, lithe arms. Their first kiss was tentative. More a question of should we, versus I want to. Hermione stared at Harry as a slow blush drifted down her jaw and neck, light in colour, but prevalent none-the-less. 

He smirked at her, with more sass than she thought him capable of before he leaned down to place another longer kiss against her lips. 

“You don’t have to be so satisfied with yourself, Potter,” she murmured against his lips as she wrapped her arms around his neck, forcing him to turn his head to better angle his mouth against hers. 

Hermione was startled out of her musings, finger lightly tracing her lower lip and a goofy smile on her face, by Harry’s soft tenor, “Whose got you grinning like a love-sick puppy, love?” He walked behind her, hands grazing her sides as he placed a lingering kiss along her neck. 

They ate in comfortable silence only broken by discussions of their days rebuilding and thoughts for the upcoming year. 

That night, instead of heading off separately then playing confused when they woke up in the same bed, Harry simply crawled in beside her. She felt him adjusting himself beside her and then hummed softly as he began to run a tender touch through her hair and down her jaw as she rested her eyes. 

“Mmm,” she finally muttered into the silence as his fingertips slowly teased her skin. Arching her neck to give him more room, Hermione moaned when Harry’s lips followed the invisible path his fingers had cleared for him. 

“Do you ever think that perhaps it was always meant to be like this?” she whispered, feeling his nod against her neck in silent agreement. Unwilling to detach from her skin, his hot pants of breath puckered her skin as Harry shifted her strap aside and descending on her collarbone and upper breast. 

“Like perhaps every time we insisted we, Ohh, were nothing more than friends, more like siblings, it was a wall we put up to avoid losing the other irrevocably?” He flattened his tongue over her nipple, immediately pebbling under the onslaught of his nips and licks, and arched her back, forcing him to take more of her in. 

“Do you think we would have ever figured out there was more here than we assumed?”  Harry traced her areola before grasping her nipple between his teeth, biting lightly. “Oh, that’s nice. But, what if the war hadn’t happened, and then you would be with someone else, and me with someone else and we would never know how spectacular this could be. My best friend and my lover?” She finished her thought on a low keen as his fingertips brushed over the dip in her pyjama bottoms. Only two thin layers prevented his skin from touching hers. 

“What if we had cowed to others desires and ignored our own once again?” Hermione huffed out in soft pants as he nipped her peak, pulling it, before letting it go. His mouth traced back up to kiss her closed eyes, her nose, and around her mouth. 

“Hermione,” Harry mumbled, leaving peck after peck on her receptive mouth. 

“Hmm,” she said, opening her eyes reluctantly when he stopped his ministrations. Her brow furrowed as she watched his eyes trace her features. “I value that mind of yours more than anyone else in this world possibly could, you know that right?” Harry asked tentatively. 

“Well, I should hope so otherwise this wouldn’t be happening right now,” she retorted, confusion clouding the hazy fog his touches had lain over her. 

“Right now though, that beautiful mind of yours is making me feel like my touches,” he slowly cupped her quim in his hand, thumb stroking the bundle of nerves hidden underneath as she arched into him, “are not good enough. If you continue to talk rather than let me explore your skin, I will have to stop.”

Her confusion vanished, replaced by a light ‘oh merlin’ as she processed how her nervous ramblings had found a home in such an intimate moment. Tongue running along her top teeth she kept her eyes on his neck a moment longer before glancing up at him through her lashes, a sheepish smile gracing her face. 

“Right, right, of course, just nervous, you know? It’s our first real-time doing more than holding each other and sleeping,” he growled low, “actually sleeping,” she clarified with emphasis. “And well, what if I am rubbish at this? What if I am too loud or too soft or can’t turn my mind off entirely? What if I am,” her eyes widened as Harry crashed his lips over her own. She slowly felt herself relaxing back into the mattress, not having realised how tense she had been. 

His teeth latched onto her bottom lip, quickly releasing it before soothing it with his tongue. “When have you ever been rubbish at anything, love?” Harry whispered and widened his eyes as he realised the potential mistake he had just made. 

“Don’t,” his finger rose to her lips, “actually answer that - rhetorical.” Shaking his head, he eyed the lips she had sucked inwards to keep herself quiet. 

His eyes shifted slowly into a mischievous squint, and without warning, he turned quickly, throwing his left leg over her hips. Harry’s lips were about to land on her own once again, her hands slowly coming back up to wrap around his neck, but it was too late. As if in slow motion, his eyes widened comically as he attempted to throw his weight back into his right, but it wasn’t enough. She laid there, alone on her childhood twin bed, frozen. Slowly, however, laughter bubbled out her mouth until her bed was squeaking as she shook and peered over the side to look at the fallen body. 

Harry lay there, eyes narrowed, lips twitching as he rubbed at his side. 

“Harry,” she attempted to say through her laughs, “Harry, are you okay?” She finally managed as she slowly lowered herself onto the floor, hands hovering over his form, unsure if she would add insult to injury by jumping in to rub him down as well. 

“Ahhh,” Hermione shouted as Harry shot up, grabbing her hips and flipping them, so she landed with her back on her floor, Harry over her, eyes dark with mischief. Before she could react, his lips were on hers once more, and she slowly wrapped her arms around his neck as she greeted his tongue with her own. 

“Tomorrow,” he stated solemnly when he pulled away, “I am buying you a bigger bed.”

She stared up at him for a moment, flustered from his surprisingly decent kissing before slapping him. “Or we can finally work on cleaning this place up and working with Gringotts to figure out where Potter Manor is.” 

His smile was radiant as he helped her up and they readjusted against each other, on her bed, intimate exploits stalled for now as they finally drifted off to sleep. Slowly healing, appreciating the other’s company, and moving forward as more than friends.

**Author's Note:**

> Any errors are my own - or Grammarly, I mean really how dare she not catch them! 
> 
> Please drop a note or a kudo if you enjoyed this. It was my first Harmony and I kept it short since I have 31 stories to write for this challenge and I should not have dedicated more than 1k to this. BUT how can you not...they so cute. 
> 
> Anyway - please leave love in words or kudos as they motivate and uplift. 
> 
> Should you disagree with the words displayed above, ConCrit is appreciated/preferred. ॐ


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